


Day 056

by Josh_the_Bard



Series: A Year in Kirkwall [56]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:33:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22901758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Josh_the_Bard/pseuds/Josh_the_Bard
Series: A Year in Kirkwall [56]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1589257
Kudos: 1





	Day 056

Greta watched at the templars went about their sweep of Datktown. Everyone had settled into their routine well enough. Everyone gave the templars a wide berth and the templars didn’t kick open any nests. The Carta and Coterie were not happy about the arrangement but they were learning to adapt, same as everyone else.

The templars were very professional, organized and predictable. Most of the residents of Datktown still hadn’t figured it out but you could tell what path they would take by the templar who was leading the patrol. Some liked to keep turning right so that they covered as much of the district as possible, but missed pockets in the middle. Some liked to shoot straight through the middle and then turn left or right when that far reached the far end. Some had landmarks that they travelled between. Paxley was the only one who had been unpredictable, but he had been pulled off patrol duty after causing too much trouble. 

Greta sketched today’s templar’s face on the map Varric has given her and marked down the route he took. After that, she made the trip topsides to the Hanged Man laughing to herself at the irony of a human coming above ground to meet a dwarf. 

“Well this is excellent work,” Varric said. “You sure have a talent for portraits. Have you ever thought of charging visiting merchants for a sketch of them at the gallows? It’s just the sort of thing people with more money than sense love.”

“Nah,” Greta replied. “You need a patron to be an artist, and where am I going to find someone who needs my art more than you? Or who pays better?”

“Good point,” Varric said. “Most nobles avoid paying for anything off they can help it. Except the really expensive useless stuff.” He chuckled at his own joke and passed Greta a bag of coins. “Now I just need to make a copy for Blondie.”

Greta took the coin and left. She passed a shop called the Owle Pen. It loked like a place where you would get art supplies for sketching. Maybe she should take Varric’s advice and start overcharging visitors for pictures. 

No. Idle fantasies were the privilege of the wealthy. Greta instead went to the cobbler and bought a box of scrap shoe leather. Then she snuck into Hightown and collected the soup crusts the nobles deigned to leave for the poor. Leather and crusts in hand, she returned to Datktown and met up with her friends.

Most of the other forgotten children of Kirkwall, at least the ones with steady work, were runners, taking messages all over the city. They literally ran holes in their shoes and if they went too long without getting them fixed, they would end up with bloody feet. Most of them would have gladly made that sacrifice to keep working but having cuts and blisters all over your feet slows you down and that was unforgivable for a runner. 

Varric didn’t always have work for Greta, but when she did she would but the cobbler scraps and patch up her friends shoes. Greta was no cobbler, so her repairs never lasted long but most of the time she was able to keep her friend from going too long with worn out shoes.

At the end of the day Greta and her friend meet up to share the soup crusts and they gossiped about the messages they had delivered during the day. Ned was good at inventing whole stories from little snippets of conversation and spun a web of intrigue and scandal involving the nobles. It was a good day: everyone went to bed with a full belly, a light heart, and sturdy shoes.


End file.
